No Room for Conversation
by heystella
Summary: People dance tango because they have secrets. Kurt and Sebastian are not exceptions to this.


**Notes: **Lol totally filling my own GKM prompt like a boss. Here is the song I had in mind for Kurt and Seb's tango: http : / / youtu .be / B0glAVaF-gw  
><strong>Rating: <strong>PG13/T  
><strong>Word Count:<strong> 1500+  
><strong>Summary:<strong> People dance tango because they have secrets. Kurt and Sebastian are not exceptions to this.

* * *

><p>People dance tango because they have secrets.<p>

For Kurt, it's the fragments of his heart, bare and rusting and sharp to the touch at the bottom of his chest.

Every step serves as a memento of lovers gone by, every pivot a tattoo of their names on his soul.

He remembers music and high school and sharing all of his firsts with Blaine - until that year of separation drew them too far apart. He remembers vivid summer nights dancing with Valentino under streetlamps in Buenos Aires - until he had to return home for fall semester. He remembers curling up with Gavin on the couch searching through New York wedding magazines for venues - until the accident took him away.

He remembers countless liaisons with nameless, faceless strangers to bury his grief. He remembers wondering_ when will I get my forever_?

Still he has no answer.

He dances to forget and to remember all at once, a kind of sweet torture for which his hunger is insatiable. It becomes his weakness and his saving grace.

His fellow milongueros have other ideas. Some dance for love. Others for loneliness. Still a few for empathy. They let the music enter their ears, permeate through their souls and leave through their legs. There are very few skilled dancers here tonight - but they are all _good_ dancers, shown in the deliberate weight of their movements, in the emotions on their faces.

Whether they dance for love or hate or something in between - is irrelevant. This is their connection. They do not ask questions, they do not demand explanations, for none are needed.

He pauses over a sip of his drink to admire a particular tanguero across the floor. Slim, athletic legs dressed in pinstripes and wingtip shoes. His steps are powerful, virile, aggressive. He leads with intent and confidence.

Growing ever more curious, Kurt's eyes drift up and - he _knows_ that tanguero. _Well, what are the chances_, he thinks darkly, finishing off his drink and slamming the glass down onto the table harder than necessary. He might have called this heaven's punishment if he believed in such an existence.

Then again, perhaps he shouldn't be so surprised after all, seeing Sebastian Smythe here. They've always had infuriatingly similar taste. Coffee, music, men. This is no different.

The music peters off, and he watches as Sebastian bows to his partner in thanks. His spine straightens, and he looks around, searching, searching, until his eyes land on Kurt's. It's not until his expression reads _found you _that Kurt realizes - he is precisely the one Sebastian had been seeking.

His stomach twists uneasily at the thought that the other man had been watching him throughout the evening.

But Sebastian still stares at him, eyebrow raised in challenge.

And who is Kurt to back down from one? He nods once, following etiquette, and keeps his eyes on Sebastian's form, not once looking away.

They approach quickly and purposefully, meeting in the middle of the dance floor and simply standing there staring at each other for a moment in silence.

Then the strings start and there is nothing else for Kurt to focus on except for Sebastian, himself, the darkness and the music pulsing through his body. He reaches out, ghosting his ring finger along the side of Sebastian's little finger, up to the bony protrusion of his wrist and then elbow. He circles around Sebastian, trailing his touch along left shoulder to the back of the neck to right shoulder, watching him closely like a predator would its prey.

Until the strings ascend and pause. Sebastian pulls him in close - _abrazo_, and suddenly, with Kurt's forearm splayed across Sebastian's shoulder and his hand at his neck, he becomes the hunted. He spends a moment taking in the other man's scent while they're this close. Sweat, naturally. Sandalwood, musk, and something distinctly Sebastian.

Their legs lock for a brief second, sending a jolt of electricity straight down his back. His eyes close for a moment in attempt to remain unaffected, his movements practiced, skilled, but cold. No. Sebastian does not deserve his true dance. He has not earned it.

Perhaps it's petty. Kurt doesn't care. He's still doing alright, his movements a bit stiff if anything.

That's when Sebastian spins him around and curls him back in, and now he's got his hand around Sebastian's back and Sebastian leaning into him. His stubble against Kurt's cheek scratches, stings. Brings him further and further under the surface. Each leg graze like a challenge, each intermingling breath a temptation.

_Give in. Surrender to me._

Sebastian's eyes are primal and uncontrolled as he follows through with his sweeping figures and leg flicks. They beckon Kurt. Dare him. _Release. Let go_.

And much to his chagrin, Kurt's blood begins to rush in his veins. Harder, heavier. Sebastian smirks, Kurt's pulse pounding steadily beneath his fingertips.

No, he refuses to be intimidated. He presses forward, daunting, fearless. Steps even closer, his touches setting fire to whatever slivers of Sebastian's skin he can access. His jaw, neck. Their joined hands burning, an inferno.

His foot scoops up Sebastian's leg and Sebastian returns the favor, the tip of his shoe trailing agonizingly slow up the side of Kurt's extended leg to mid-thigh and back down again. Another pivoting twist, leg flick, and Sebastian's grabbing at his shoulder blade. Their eyes meet - dark, heavy, pupils blown wide.

And then Kurt realizes - this is no longer a challenge. It likely never was. It is an outlet, an expression, a means to an end of their residual mutual hatred, left over the years to turn bitter and fester and ignite only at this moment, only upon their reunion.

Because underneath all of that, underneath the intense, malicious gazes and the sharp cutting words of the past -

Kurt arches his back, Sebastian running his fingers hot down his sides, leaning forward to bury his face in the crook of Kurt's neck in a barely-disguised display of vulnerability - is an undeniable deep-seated_want_.

When he lets go, when he accepts this for what it is - when he completely loses it, gives his soul to Sebastian just as Sebastian has given him his - is when he truly starts to move. This is the moment when he feels unashamed and strong and weak and and so _alive_.

He breathes Sebastian in, taking in the heat of his body, the movement of his muscles, the rhythm of his breathing, and his senses go on overdrive and all he can do is cling to him and show him what he cannot say in words or even in thoughts. There is no reason, no logic, just raw emotion, biting and harsh and all-consuming.

Sebastian draws him impossibly nearer, skin to skin, lips tantalizingly close. Just a turn of the head could result in a kiss. But neither dare to ruin this moment.

Right now is all about the passion, the intimacy, the knowledge of each other's soul and body in the _almost _sense. They act on their desire without going the entire way, they seek and want and touch just shy of with abandon because this is in many ways better than indulging in those final carnal needs.

In these few minutes wrapped up in each other, he has learned Sebastian's body in ways that his lovers have likely never known. He knows that the instep of Sebastian's ankle is highly sensitive and he closes his eyes whenever Kurt's foot grazes it. He knows that when his hand is at his neck, his thumb caressing the skin behind his ear as the music ascends, Sebastian's breath halts for just a second. He knows that Sebastian's left radial pulse is strangely weak, but it beats significantly harder when Kurt presses his nose against his jaw.

He knows these things - and he's sure that Sebastian knows his fair share about _him _as well.

But even while it tears and rips them from the inside with need and desire, it is also inexplicably delicate, vulnerable, pure. Almost tender.

It shows when the music slows - in those rare moments when nothing is rushed - everything is heady still. But calm. Their hands no longer share a death grip, but instead a gentle, sensual touch of the fingertips.

Sebastian lifts Kurt into a brief sitting stance on his thigh. The moment doesn't last long; Kurt is back on his own feet within a matter of seconds but nothing about the action is violent or possessive - just close, private.

It is all of these contradictory values - tenderness, hate, hardness, softness - that make the experience, the very dance - come to life. He often likens it to falling in love.

And the perfect partner - the one who can evoke all of these and much much more - is like a fated lover. Never did he think he would ever speak of Sebastian in such terms, nor did he ever want to…

But then again, life often behaves in unexpected ways.

The song draws to a close, Sebastian holding him tight, so tight he's nearly dizzy, and when he looks back up into those eyes, they too display the disorientation, the haziness lifting, caught in that space between dreams and reality, and the chatter of voices around them is enough reminder to pull their feet back into the real world.

Their moment is over now - but it is eternal in its transiency.

Sebastian gazes at him strangely with wonder and interest, like he's never really _seen_ Kurt before. He opens his mouth to speak -

But Kurt places a silencing finger on his lips, gently shaking his head with an almost-smile. There is no need to ruin this with words. Their bodies have said enough.

People dance tango because they have secrets.

He doesn't want to know Sebastian's.

Because Sebastian may not be his forever, but he is certainly his right now. And why should they make it more complicated than that? He'll deal with the secrets when he does find his forever, but until then…

He wants to enjoy the mystery.


End file.
